


Yet He Saw Her, Like the Sun, Even Without Looking

by theheadandthekin



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Post-Season/Series 03, Slight Humor, Tumblr Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 08:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10185575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheadandthekin/pseuds/theheadandthekin
Summary: Abbie and Crane share a first kiss.(Also posted on Tumblr.)





	

Whether it was the fact that yesterday—was it only yesterday?—had been so taxing, or because she’d given into the offer of coffee the previous morning, her head ached, and although it was past ten o’clock, she wasn’t going to be bothered to get dressed before going downstairs.

Whatever it was, coffee was going to help.

(So much for being off the “caffeinated bean” permanently.)

When she rounded the staircase, she found Crane perched on a stool at the bar, reading. She could tell from its heft that it was the copy of _Anna Karenina_ he had been picking at for the past couple of weeks. During a few quiet moments, he’d read passages to her.

She was glad he was there, waiting for her.

Despite the throb at her temples, Abbie felt a mental clarity and purpose that had eluded her since her trip to the Catacombs.

She loved him.

Pandora tried to weaponize it, had tried to use it to convince Abbie to sacrifice herself to that stupid box. But she’d looked over at Jenny, trying to find support and strength in the face of death, and instead saw her sister frantically shaking her head.

Unbidden, she thought of their dad, thought of holding a confused and inconsolable baby sister, thought of holding back her own tears for Jenny and for Mama. Thought of her mother’s horrible death and her pleading ghost. Thought of her father’s recent reappearance and really fucking _tired_ excuses. _Everything._

Coward, she thought, as he had tried to make nice by showing her a photo album and lying through his teeth about his knowledge of their fight, their fate.

_Leaving isn’t loving._

Before she could talk herself out it, she padded silently up next to her partner and leaned heavily against his shoulder.

“Morning.”

He immediately set the book aside. “Lieutenant. How was your slumber?”

She closed her eyes and let herself listen to his steady breathing for several long moments. “Had worse nights.”

“And yet you seem quite ready to fall back asleep as you stand.”

She cracked one eye open and looked up at his face. “You’re not a bad pillow.”

He smirked down at her. “On at least one other occasion, you’ve said precisely the opposite.”

Abbie couldn’t help but smile, grateful he hadn’t tensed—or scrambled away—at her affection. Grateful that there was no uncomfortable shift, that he didn’t seem flustered or concerned. Satisfied he’d continue to let her push their boundaries, she snaked a hand in front of him and lifted his half-finished cappuccino to her lips for a quick taste.

“Will you make me one?” She settled her chin back on his shoulder and watched his profile. “Think I’m more ready to enjoy those _fruits of life_ you were talking about yesterday.”

“Of course.”

He swiveled in his stool to get up, but Abbie didn’t move out of the way, only taking a half step back to allow him room to swing his legs toward her.

“Lieutenant.” He cleared his throat and she noted the fingers of his left hand twitching on the counter. “If you’ll—“

“I don’t just mean the coffee, Crane.”

She’d always figured if and when they crossed this line that it would feel like taking a blind leap over a wide chasm, that it would be, maybe, the scariest thing she’d ever done. Instead, she felt solid and sure.

There was nothing in the world more obvious or more right; no beating around the bush.

(They’d beat around the bush so much already it was surrounded by a ditch.)

She reached out and played with the strings on his shirt. “What happened … set some things straight for me.”

He finally, _finally_ touched her, pressing her hand against his chest. He drank her in over a long pause, and Abbie realized just how many times, and over how _much_ time, he’d looked at her like this.

“I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

They still had a lot to talk about. She closed her eyes and nodded, wondering if maybe they ought to hash it out first, before ....

“I’m sorry I’ve pushed you aw—“

She startled when his lips brushed over hers. “I only ever wanted to assure you there would be no risk in any action you chose to take.”

Then she was being bundled into his arms, and, this time, gentleness gave away immediately to a mutually enthusiastic attempt to satisfy years—long, _long_ years—of pent-up tension and curiosity.

Breathless, Crane drew back a few inches. “I take it from your late morning that you are unneeded at work today?”

“Got plans?” She tried for a skeptical look, but if the amusement on his face was any indication, she failed to be convincing.

“You’ve no idea.”

“Well, they better include that cappuccino.”

He kissed her cheek, then moved down her jaw.

“Not gonna distract me, Crane.”

He dragged his lips her neck—the scrape of his beard was unexpectedly amazing—and she really, _really_ tried to stop herself from moaning. Although maybe something besides coffee could help with the headache …

His hands were doing some exploring, too. “Only if you take me to get donuts later.”

“Fine. You gonna earn it?”

“Of course.” He palmed over her breast, apparently trying to prove the point. “Although ‘take his ass to Dunkin Donuts’ doesn’t have quite the same ring as ‘Red Lobster,’ does it?”


End file.
